


learning to cherish myself

by dedueitwithmustard



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dedue Molinaro-centric, Found Family, Internalized racism, Introspection, M/M, Mentions of Racism, POC struggles, Post-Time Skip, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Time Skip, Slight Mention of Trauma, Tragedy of Duscur (Fire Emblem), dedue lets himself be human, im such a dedue fucker i love him so much, like its the time in between azure moon and prt 1, self-realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedueitwithmustard/pseuds/dedueitwithmustard
Summary: Dedue reflects on his time in Keluvir, where his people teach him how to accept himself.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	learning to cherish myself

**Author's Note:**

> hiya !!! a lot of the characters mentioned in this fic belong to @scatteringmyashes !! pls pls read their fic "Errors in Translation," its incredible !  
> also, the character of Kadeen belongs to @MichelleDixArt on twitter and tumblr !! please support their art its great!  
> finally, this is dedicated to my amazing beta dosi, who has helped me in this process so much! please support his art, @cupidiscalling on both tumblr and insta !
> 
> please enjoy !

It was almost dizzying for Dedue to think that it had been 19 years since he had lost his family, friends, and childhood home to the Tragedy of Duscur. Yet, he still recalled that day with such terrifyingly vivid clarity; he could feel the agonizingly painful fire, the fires that ate his people alive, and the screams of terror coming from both Duscurians and Kingdom soldiers alike. On days where clouds hung overhead, he remembered before the madness began. When gazing at starry nights, he almost felt his Mother hold him so tight and close, reminding him that she would always love him, how he would always be her little noyta, her little star. Dedue would heart would twist in the exact manner in it wrenched when he saw two siblings; it made him think of how his big sister, always so strong and independent, shrieked and sobbed into his shoulder after kissing him for one final goodbye that day. But, most of the time, just closing his eyes would make him flinched, as he saw the faces of those dying that day. 

It had been 19 years, but Dedue would never forget that day, not as long as his heart still beated in his chest. After the war ended and Dimitri had begun his reign over the newly unified Fódlan, Dedue found himself reminiscing about the period of time that he spent apart from Dimitri, after he took his place on the guillotine. 

Dedue travelled to Duscur frequently, both on behalf of Dimitri to meet with delegates, and on his own terms to visit Keluvir. When Dedue took Dimitri’s place in that jail cell all of those years ago, he was prepared to die for his lord. And, if it had not been for the village of Keluvir, he would have. He had spent five years healing his wounds, getting in touch with both his culture and himself. For that, he would never be able to thank the people of Keluvir, his family, enough.

Kamya, a village elder skilled both in the arts of white magic and gossip, often told him stories while tending to his wounds, of how the sky goddess and the earth god created Duscur with the intent to raise a strong people that could withstand any setback. Dedue first assumed that she only told him this to relieve him of the stress of being bed-ridden, while Dimitri was still out in Faergus, suffering and killing needlessly. But, through the time he spent with Kamya, he found that she rarely spoke without purpose. 

One frigid day during Duscur’s winter, Armad and Reza, two teenagers that had taken a liking to Dedue, decided to avoid their chores outside to share tea with Dedue and Kamya. As Kamya went on about how the pair were always ignoring their work, Dedue stared out the window. Dimitri loved cold winter days when they were children more than anything. Dedue only realized he had said this outloud when Kamya stopped her lecture. 

“My Dedue,” Kamya chided, “I’ve known you for two years now, and I hardly know anything about you, boy. All you speak of is your highness, and not who you are.” 

Dedue would be lying if he said he had a retort to that. 

“I try to focus on my prince rather than myself,” he stuttered, seeing the old woman shake her head. “I simply wish to stay by his Highness’ side for the rest of his days. I consider myself his vassal, through and through.” 

“We know that already, you fool. Are you saying to me, boy, that you are not a warrior? That you do not have a single ambition outside of tending to that little boyfriend of yours? You young ones are all the same. I swear, you fall in love and forget who you are!”

Armad and Reza giggled at the sight of Dedue’s ears turning a ruby red. Dedue looked at the pair bitterly, and reminded himself to scold them when Kamya left the cottage. 

“She has a point, brother,” Reza said, leaning on Armad’s shoulder. “All you do is talk about this handsome princeling. And, although we wanna know all of the juicy details of your romantic, late night garden visits with him, we’re more interested in what made our stoic big brother what he is today.” 

“Leave the poor boy alone, Reza,” Kamya scolded.

“You know it’s true, Granny,” Armad chuckled. 

“Alright, you brats, that’s enough. Go outside and start weeding like you were supposed to an hour ago,” Kamya ordered, dismissing the two.

Armad whined, saying that it was too cold outside for such a job, but as soon as Kamya grabbed her cane and hoisted it up into the air, Reza tugged the boy along, grabbing their coats and fleeing the cottage, tail in between her legs. Dedue couldn’t help but look at the two with adoration in his eyes. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea of where to begin, Kamya. I’ve been transfixed on my lord a good amount of my recent life, and I haven’t given myself leeway for such introspection. That was the last thing on my mind,” Dedue admitted, bringing the mug of steaming jasmine to his lips and blowing on it’s surface. The tea rippled outwards.

Kamya chuckled, flashing that grin that Dedue loved so much. While Kamya herself was quite a tease, the old woman never came from a place of malice. She cared for each and every person in Keluvir, and Duscur as a whole. Dedue knew that she would love Dimitri when he brought him to visit his family at the war’s end. 

“You remind me of my husband more and more everyday, Dedue. The poor, old fool was always so focused on improving the lives of others and the village that he never took any damn time for himself. He was a good man, and an even better husband. But in the end, not looking after himself is what got him killed,”

Kamya had told him the story of Marion countless times over. The only reason she was still alive today was because her husband threw himself in front of a sword for her during the Tragedy. Dedue had done the same for Dimitri in Fhirdiad, shortly after Edelgard waged war against all of Fódlan. Dedue had convinced himself that he would have done it again if the situation called for it. He shut his eyes and tried not to think about Dimitri finding his corpse.

“I don’t mean to guilt you, boy, but you must heed my words. We, and I’m sure your little prince, too, need more from you than just your strength. You may not consider yourself special to the man, but I am almost certain that he considers you to be utterly irreplaceable. If not for yourself, do this for him; You must learn the value of your own life, Dedue. A vassal is no good if he’s dead, after all. Do you understand me, boy?”

Dedue took in her words, looking down into his lap. He traced over one of the deep scars on his hand and thought of a lesson that the Professor had taught them back at the academy. 

“Someone once told me that you cannot protect your life if you do not understand the value of it. Consider this in every situation you are in, for you cannot turn back the hands of time.”

He looked up at her, one of her tiny hands outstretched across the table. Her eyes were full of earnestness, like they always were. Kamya rarely looked vulnerable, even when talking about her husband. Dedue took her hand in his. It was warm.

“Yes. But, If it isn’t too much too much to ask, since you have already done so much for me, I am going to need guidance on this. I, if I may speak informally and honestly, do not know where to begin.” Dedue sighed, looking downward into his lap again. Kamya reached out and a veiny lifted his chin up. 

“Tomorrow. I will come see you, and we can discuss this further. Rest, child.” 

\----------

Dedue first allowed himself to get angry, which was something he had vowed to himself he would never do. Dedue’s golden rule was to never do somthing if it was not in his Highness’s best interest. For too long, both in the capital and at the monastery, he had allowed himself to simply be stepped upon by those who called him a dog, a wretch, a dirty man of Duscur. He convinced himself that it was only natural, and that he would not allow himself to fret over it, or to think about it when he had more significant things to attend to. He had always got that murky feeling in his chest whenever it would happen, but he had convinced himself that it had been guilt surrounding dirtying his Highness’ reputation. He forced himself to forget what it felt like to hear the names of his late family called regicidal monsters. He shoved down every last bit of malice that he had in his heart into a corner in the pit of his stomach, never to be mentioned or heard of again. 

It was with a soldier that was a part of the troop that had rescued him, and future delegate of Duscur, Kadeen, that he allowed himself to feel the hot emotions he had left locked up for so long. Dedue sparred with him, imaging the ignorant people who treated him like dirt every time he closed his eyes and swung his axe. He would do this until his muscular but rusty arms would give that, or until he couldn’t keep his emotions under wraps anymore. 

Dedue trained himself during his time as a teenager in Fhirdiad to never show how he was feeling if it did help Dimitri. But, as he flung his axe down onto the dirt of the village and fell to his knees, there was no containing the wracking sobs that would shake his body like leaves in the wind. 

Before life in Keluvir, Dedue could count the number of times that he had cried on his right hand. Once during the tragedy (those months after he grouped into one), and, more embarrassingly, when he called Dimitri by his first name during a meal, drawing glares him castle guards. 

But Dedue decided not to count anymore, to punish himself for simply being human. Dedue was not a weapon. Dedue was human. Dedue realized this, and finally allowed himself to feel those waves of anguish that came with every slur spat upon him, every dirty look he ever got, and every time he felt like he wasn’t enough because he hailed from Duscur.

He had first cried with Reza, Armad, Kadeen and Kamya the first time he let them in on his expreriences with ignorance and unjustified discrimination. Reza allowed him to bury his head into her shoulder and Kamya rubbed his back as he quiety explained the feelings of grief that weighed him down everytime a classmate would treat him like a murderer because of his country. Armad’s face got as red, as he swore to inflict twice as much pain on those who hurt Dedue than Dedue himself felt. Kadeen calmed him down as Reza told Dedue to ignore him, reminding him that he was extremely brave for both crying, and telling himself that does events really did hurt him, and not just his Highness’ honor. Dedue simply nodded and allowed himself to take Reza into his arms, and tell himself how glad he was to have her, and his new family. With them, there would be no pain.

Over his time in Keluvir, Dedue gained more and more confidence in who he was as a person. He no longer would accept the notion that just because he was born in Duscur, he deserved to be punished by his allies, or Fódlan, for it. He no longer only thought of himself as a mindless weapon, but rather someone who protected his friends and family, and most importantly of all, himself, because he cared about them deeply. He learned to make teasing passes at Reza to get back at her for all of the jokes she made about Dedue’s crush on his lord, he learned to play ball with Armad when he had too much energy, and he learned that it was okay that he was injured physically at that time, for when he was healed, he would be able to take care of his Dimitri, both as a vassal, and as a friend.

\-------------------------- 

Now, 19 years after the tragedy, he feels just as whole as he did when he played with his sister, cooked with his mother, and practiced swordplay with his father. 

Dedue opened his eyes on a sunny afternoon in Duscur, when he felt something being put on his face. He saw his baby boy, shaded by a tree, piling blades of grass onto his face. Achille cackled, seeing that his plan to wake up his Papa had worked perfectly. Dedue grinned, scooping his child up into his arms with ease. 

“I cast a spell on you, Papa! I used my magic pollen on your face, so you’ll be turned into a bear,” Achille exclaimed, his sky blue eyes looking up into his dad’s.

“Achille! If I turn into a bear, I can’t bake you any more cakes. Certainly you don’t want that, my sweet.” Dedue said, smiling as his son gasped. 

“Papa, no! I don’t want bear cakes, only Papa cakes! Where’s Daddy? Daddy!”

As if on cue, Dimitri’s blonde locks appeared from behind the hill that the father and son sat on. Achille scrambled out of Dedue’s lap and ran over to Dimitri as fast as his small legs could carry him.

“Daddy, daddy, it’s terrible! I cast a magic spell on Papa with the magic grass that turns people into bears, but if Papa turns into a bear, he can’t make us his super yummy Papa cakes anymore! You have to help us!” Achille cried, grabbing Dimitri’s hand and pulling him over to where Dedue sat on a fur blanket. 

Dedue winked at Dimitri, signalling him to play along. 

“Heavens, Achille! What should I do to save Papa?” Dimitri asked, fake panic laced in his voice. 

“Hmm, let’s see,” the child stuck his tongue out to signal he was thinking. Dedue could have died at the sight. “Aha! Daddy, you have to give Papa a kiss! In all of the stories Auntie Mercie and Auntie Annie tell me, the most craziest spells are only broken when a, um, true lovie kiss is had!” 

It took everything in Dedue to keep from laughing. Oh, he would have to thank his two friends later for all of the stories they were teaching to little Achille. Dimitri laughed airly as Achille sat him down across from Dedue, who smiled at his beau.

“Okay Daddy! Work your true lovie magic!”

Dedue closed his eyes, Dimitri’s lips grazing him lightly. Dedue brought one of his hands to cup Dimtri’s cheek, the famillar, soft skin warming up at the contact. The two separated, and Achille let out a loud “Yahoo,” relieved that the so-called spell was broken. 

Dedue watched as Dimitri reached out and ruffled the toddler’s hair before pulling him into his lap. Dimitri looked over at Dedue, and beckoned him to join them against the tree they sat under. Dedue slotted up against the towering maple tree, spreading his legs and opening his arms. Dimtri and Achille crawled over to him, Dimtri laying on his chest, and Achille playing on Dimtri’s. Tired from casting spells, Achille bundled up in the blanket and settled down for a nap. 

Dimitri turned his head to kiss Dedue, before he shut his eyes as well. Dedue softly loosened the string holding the eyepatch that was tied behind Dimtri’s head, allowing his King to rest his head on his shoulder. Dedue lived for these moments of respite, where there was no war or danger to lose sleep over. 

Dedue looked out into the distance and saw a clear, blue sky staring back at him. He felt the eyes of his mother, father and sister on him, and he smiled. He knew exactly what they would say. He closed his eyes and listened. 

“This is your home.”

**Author's Note:**

> i really love dedue,,,,, i want him to get kisses and hugs and play animal crossin.......
> 
> come talk to me about dimidue and dedue on twitter @ddarlingdedue


End file.
